The words, shared, written down
come from God, from the voice
speaking within me, the means
streaming through my fingers
touching the keys of the computer
writing down the words already prepared
for me to share, in this time and place
Words of the Creator, the Sustainer,
the Savior of the world,
me a mere scribe, like the monks
writing down the words of the bible
long before Guttenberg built his press
words already written, transcribed
and sent into the stream, the river
of human thought, perception
Hoping to find fertile soil
on the far away shore
March 4, 2008
(Raymond A. Foss)
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